Deep
in the caves beneath the Mountains of Withral, lived a fierce young tribal
leader known as Grothral. This fiery, ebony-skinned giant was the most ruthless
and determined leader those of the TigerClaw clan had ever encountered. The
TigerClaws, known best for their countless acts of theft, murder and general
mayhem, had been locked in what seemed to be an endless war over dominion of the
slopes and tunnels of Mount Withral with the frost giants of the IceCloud Clan.
Masters of the deep caverns beneath the Mountain, Lords of the fiery pits of
lava, the TigerClaw clan was the stronger and far more destructive of the two,
yet, the IceClouds, led by a highly intelligent leader, Jeranthal, never gave
ground to the savages that was not retaken. The war continued without pause
until one fateful evening, five full years into the bloody feud, Grothral made
the decision to raid an Elven outpost. His scouts had reported, an elven
princess had been sent to the Outpost to attempt to negotiate the end of
hostilities between the two clans. Grothral, known for his strength and passion,
but not his wit, thought holding the elven princess hostage would swing the
balance of power heavily in his favor and give him the edge he needed to destroy
the IceClouds once and for all. So, acting in characteristic fashion, he
recklessly attacked the encampment with a small contingent of warriors. Hardly
the battle he expected, more than half his warriors were cut down in mere
seconds, the others running blindly into the forest as they fled the magical
arrows of the elven archers. Grothral, refusing to accept defeat, lead the
warriors he could gather on a suicidal charge, losing nearly all of the
remaining soldiers, but escaping with both his life and his prized hostage, the
elven princes

Having little contact with elves and completely unawares of the inherent spirit
of valor instilled in the people, his plan proved his undoing. Within a month,
the mighty elven army camped on the foothills of Mount Withril. Seeing a chance
to do what his enemy could not, Jeranthal arrived in the Elven encampment
himself, as a liason for the IceClouds and soon formed an alliance. The
TigerClaws were decimated, clubs of ice and enchanted elven arrows spilling
their hot blood from the slopes to the deepest caverns of the mountain. In an
escape, more lucky than daring, Grothral fled into weathered wastelands of the
desert, only his closest personal guard and captive in his company. His clan
destroyed, Grothral�s mind turned to dark revenge, focused primarily on his
hostage, as it was her people who orchestrated the demise of his own. He forced
himself on the princess, Eow'thiel, seeking to humiliate and defile her spirit,
and succeeded in impregnating her with his seed. Upon learning this, Grothral
believed he had brought the rebirth of the giants of fire through his child,
sure to be empowered with the magics of these strange and powerful creatures. He
ordered her watched day and night, fearing she would take her own life to end
that of the monster growing inside. As time passed, more members of the
TigerClaw clan wandered into the desert encampment, drawn from all over the
wastelands by Grothral's riders. As the clan reached acceptable strength,
Grothral found his bride ready to give birth. On a cold desert night, a
half-fire giant was born and christened Anubas. He was large by elven, even
human standards, but quite small in comparison to the pure-blood giants of the
TigerClaws. Eow'thiel's elven blood flowed through his veins, making his skin
much softer than normal, his eyes a piercing cobalt blue, and his hair jet
black. Anubas grew over the years, still regarded small and inferior by his own
kin, but becoming powerful in his own right. His father, although a poor
strategist, was a very able warrior and trained Anubas in every weapon known to
the TigerClaw warrior. Meanwhile, his mother, Eow'thiel, was secretly training
him in the elven ways, teaching him to hone his agility and marksmanship far
beyond that of any fire giant warrior before him. His speed and accuracy on the
battlefield soon found him surpassing all of the other warriors in his clan,
even though he was smaller and a half-breed. His father, proud of the great
warrior he had spawned, placed Anubas in one of the highest positions of honor,
Commander General of the Armies of TigerClaw, his right-hand, and the hammer
with which he intended to grind his enemies to dust.

Three summers passed as the clan's warriors trained under their new general,
and, at long last, they were ready to march on the halls of the IceClouds,
returning to the land they deemed their blood-right. Grothral, knowing full-well
his son to be the greatest swordsman ever seen by the TigerClaws, perhaps
giantkind as a whole, was anxious to see him in battle. Also, knowing his
warriors trained better than ever before, and believing the elves magic to be on
his side now, he was confident his return to Mount Withral would be a triumphant
one. The TigerClaws first strike on Mount Withral was swift and deadly, meeting
almost no resistance. Grothral watched from a distance, Anubas at his side, as
his warriors routed entire regiments of IceCloud soldiers, the element of
surprise playing heavily into their favor. However, as the initial skirmishes
ended and the surprise was lost, the TigerClaws began to meet heavier
resistance. Then, abruptly, the tide of the battle begin to turn. Jeranthal
appeared at the head of his main force and Grothral soon learned he was not the
only clan to benefit from contact with the elves as he watched his first wave
cut to ribbons by the frost giant archers. Fearing he was seeing his victory
crumbling before him, he decided to play his full hand, sending Anubas and his
regiment to the front. The ensuing battle lasted for two full days and nights,
neither Anubas's men nor Jeranthal's able to take the advantage, but both
generals fighting as if they were ten men. Finally, as the sun came up on the
third day, Anubas's troops broke the line, and brought Anubas face to face with
his nemesis. Jeranthal had been trained well by his elven allies and fought
better than any giant could have against his agile opponent, but Anubas had
blood on his side and soon wounded Jeranthal, causing him to flee into the
mountain itself. Their general gone, the IceCloud troops lost their battle rage
and Anubas's men quickly took the slopes. Leading a handful of men, Anubas
entered the maze-like caverns of Mount Withral, his father's orders to bring the
traitorous scum, Jaranthal, out alive, still ringing in his ears. Hours later,
only a bloody Anubas emerged, his sword broken, nevertheless leading the
defeated chieftain of the IceClouds, a rope tied round his neck. He brought
Jaranthal before his father, presenting the greatest trophy of war Grothral
could have desired. Grothral immediately decided his enemy would endure the
punishment he himself had gone through and had his warriors run the defeated
general into banishment in the Wastelands. Later that night, as the TigerClaws
feasted on the spoils of war, celebrating their victory, and Anubas, his father,
and the other captains sat in war council planning their assault on the elves,
Jeranthal crept back into the TigerClaw encampment accompanied by the remains of
his army, stragglers he�d managed to find and rally for one final strike. A cry
rose up from the encampment, bringing both Anubas and his father bursting from
the Council tent where they found the body of Eow'thiel, overwhelmed by the
number of frost giants, an ice dagger buried in her chest. Jeranthal and his men
were nowhere to be found, save a set of tracks leading back into the deadly
wastelands. Grothral wailed at his loss, scarely able to believe his queen had
been murdered outside his own tent. He begin screaming orders, placing blame on
any and all of his warriors, trying to rally a search party when he noticed his
son. Knowing full well Anubas's feelings for his mother, Grothral dreaded the
look in his son's eyes. The deep blue eyes seemed emotionless, cold and deadly.
His face showed no sign of tears or pain, just a harsh line of a mouth, pressed
in steely determination. Anubas walked to his mother's body, knelt and laid his
hand on her head in one last tender gesture, took up her two-handed elven forged
sword and strode out of the encampment on the trail of her killers, leaving his
father and all the warriors of the TigerClaw standing, slack-jawed and wordless.
Anubas quietly vowed never to rest, never to love, never to stop even in death,
no matter where his feet may take him until Jaranthal was brought to justice.
Thus ended his life as a TigerClaw and thus began his life's Quest that would
one day see him brought to the land of Turien

Recent Posts

Your browser does not support inline frames or is currently configured not to display inline frames.